


Eight guys one seance

by imoldgreg



Series: Klaus in weird pornos I’ve seen [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Basically I Forgot To Write Ben Into This So I’ve Decided There’s No Powers, Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Gang Bang, Ice Play, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Fisting, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, It is now, It’s Klaus Guys, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Seriously This Is Shit I’m Sorry, Slapping, Slight Breath Play, Spanking, Spitroasting, Wine... play? Is That A Thing?, no beta we die like ben, speaking of which, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:22:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27519079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imoldgreg/pseuds/imoldgreg
Summary: Klaus gets invited out to dinner. Of course it can’t go the way he expects.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Klaus in weird pornos I’ve seen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025878
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Eight guys one seance

**Author's Note:**

> I banged this out in an hour at 3am bc I can’t sleep and we need more of Klaus getting the life fucked out of him
> 
> Also I am so sorry

When one of Klaus’ wealthier regulars, Harry, had promised him dinner, Klaus had assumed just that. Ha. First mistake of the night.

Expensive restaurant? Check. Klaus dolled up in a borrowed dress that he was quickly realising was far too short for a place like this? Check again. Two for two. 

But seven other men sat around the table? Apparently that was the deal, and Klaus was nothing if not a team player.

“You didn’t mention-“ he whispered in Harrry’s ear, clutching his arm anxiously. 

“Shh, they’ll pay you don’t worry,” Harry muttered back, pulling his arm out of Klaus’ grip and patting him on the rear as he took his seat. 

As if the money was the issue. But Klaus couldn’t deny his surprise was fading fast as he took in the sight of the men before him; expensive suits, Rolexes, huge wafer thin phones resting on the table. Men who would barely bat an eyelash over a hundred bucks. Petty cash.

“Sit,” a man with a huge gold Rolex ordered, wrinkling his nose as if Klaus was uninvited.

So Klaus sat.

Harry shook his head at the others and made a comment Klaus didn’t catch, but everyone else laughed. 

So Klaus laughed.

The men talked, the waiters brought wine that tasted like shit, but Klaus was painfully sober and finished his glass almost as soon as it had been poured.

It wasn’t refilled.

No one really payed him much attention at first. They made a few comments on his looks, his dress, his face, but only to Harry, barely even acknowledging Klaus’ presence other than dragging their eyes up and down his body. 

It was hard to get into the swing of things. At first he tried being bratty, a usual sure fire tactic in getting spanked or shoved to his knees.

So he’d said, “you sure you’re gonna be able to keep up, old man?” Or something similar. He couldn’t remember what it was in response to.

But all he received in return was a scalding glare from everyone around the table.

So he tried submissive. Harry liked to pretend he was a girl when they were together, so he simpered and batted his eyelashes and tried to return compliments.

He was ignored.

So Klaus got bored. He’d been so excited for this meal, eager for proper food and a good fuck. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten anything not from a packet.

His stomach growled pitifully.

After an hour he tried to get Harry’s attention by rubbing his thigh and pressing close to his side. Harry batted his hand away and continued talking.

It was getting to the two hour mark and Klaus was highly considering just getting up and fucking off, when finally Rolex addressed him.

“Strip.”

A little unprepared, Klaus blinked at him dopily. He looked around at the expectant faces, and realised the command had been aimed at him.

“You dumb little bitch,” Rolex scoffed. “Fucking strip. Do you want this or not?”

He held up a thick wad of notes.

Klaus had never undressed so fast in his life. The men around the table laughed. 

The other patrons at the restaurant were shielded from their large table with a wall of one way glass. The fact Klaus was naked barely a few feet away from some young couple eating a meal completely unawares sent a thrill down his spine.

The nearest man to him, with blonde hair, reached for him and pulled him over.

Then there were hands all over him, groping, poking, squeezing. And fuck, Klaus was loving it. Finally he was getting the attention he’d been expecting, and shit... he was gonna be able to buy so much heroin with that money. Maybe these guys had coke too? Rich guys loved coke.

He moaned and pressed himself into the touch, and the men laughed and called him a whore.

Klaus didn’t care. He was floating on the high he hadn’t even got yet, skin buzzing with excitement. 

He allowed himself to be half lifted onto the table, crouched onto all fours so everyone could slide their hands over his skin. Someone pushed two fingers in his mouth and thrust them deep enough to make him gag.

Another two were rubbing at his hole, squeezing his cheeks and parting them so he was exposed. They spanked him hard and he jolted, the fingers in his mouth thrusting deep again. He gagged and drooled, but arched his back further and pushed himself back against their hands.

“Fuck~“ he gargled against the fingers hooking against his bottom teeth, shaking his head so it moved side to side, stupidly.

Rolex started playing with his nipples, while Blondie was fondling his cock with maddening patience. He barely grazed over the head, just holding him and testing the weight, feeling his balls as if it were an examination.

Klaus was so hard. The rush of so much sensation at once was driving him mad. It was so much and not enough. He needed something inside, so he whined and pushed back against the insistent thumb rubbing circles against his rim, gazing up at the man with his fingers in Klaus’ mouth, his silver cufflinks glinting in the low light of the restaurant.

“You want more, you worthless little shit? You think we wanna put our cocks inside something as filthy as you?” Cufflinks sneered, and spat on Klaus’ face, shoving his fingers deeper so another long string of drool slid out from between his lips. 

The glob of spit landed on his eye and it stung a little as Klaus blinked quickly, his vision a little obscured by the weight of it on his eyelashes.

He whined and nodded, his face heating at the man’s words, and also at the subsequent round of laughter and pinches he received in response.

Rolex twisted one his nipples and Klaus squeaked and jolted, getting spanked hard several times in return. It left him a little shocked, but nothing compared to when he heard the jingling of a belt buckle, and seconds later the crack of it hitting the sensitive skin of his ass.

Klaus howled between the fingers, suckling tearfully as he was hit five more times, and then twice on his back. He shook and cried, but still the hands wouldn’t stop. Finally Blondie was stroking him with a loose fist, and Klaus couldn’t help but hump needily into his hand.

Then someone held his ass cheeks open, and he almost jumped out his skin when a freezing wet press of the ice cubes from the men’s drinks were pushed inside him. 

“Look at that greedy little hole,” one of the men behind him growled, pushing the ice in after circling it around Klaus’ rim and up and down his cleft, making his skin shudder and his breath catch.

Then, finally (finally!) someone added a spit slicked finger inside him, pushing it in and out roughly, curling it. 

Klaus moaned loud in relief, and the fingers in his mouth withdrew.

“You like that, bitch? Of course you do. You’d do anything as long as you got fucked, wouldn’t you?” Rolex jeered, and as someone added a second finger and Klaus’ concentration started to lapse, he backhanded Klaus across the face.

“Disgusting. What are you? Say it,” he commanded, slapping Klaus round the face whenever he tried to speak.

It felt like a whole fucking fist had found it’s way up Klaus’ ass and he could barely support his own weight let alone think about answering Rolex, his thighs trembling with effort, but then Blondie let go of his cock, and instead held a bottle of wine in front of Klaus’ face.

“I think we need to work on your concentration, slut,” Rolex growled in his ear, apparently finsihed slapping Klaus about and now gripping his neck tightly so keep him in place as Blondie poured wine over his arched back.

It formed a small puddle between his shoulder blades that shuddered at the same time as each shove of the hand inside him, driving all thoughts out of Klaus’ head and making his eyes roll back.

Rolex squeezed, and Klaus felt the blood in his face throb, barely getting enough air to choke out moans.

“Now you keep this wine safe for us here, baby girl. If you spill any, you don’t get your money,” Blondie said in a sing-song voice, slapping Klaus’ ass hard just to watch him struggle to remain still.

Rolex finally let go out Klaus’ neck and he gasped for air, spluttering as the hand was slowly slid out of him.

Cufflinks shoved a handful of cutlery between Klaus’s teeth, and held his nose painfully tight. Klaus gazed up at him with a cock drunk expression.

“Keep these neat and tidy for us bitch, each one you drop is another fifty knocked off.”

Sounds easy, right?

But then someone pulled a vibrator out of butt fucking nowhere, and slid it inside him with embarrassing ease. It hit his prostrate just right, and the man controlling it kept jabbing it inside him, making Klaus’ whole body jump.

He moaned at each inward thrust, his voice reaching a humiliating pitch when someone’s hand started tugging at his cock, and someone else started fondling his balls. Two more hands appeared on either side of him, rubbing and twisting his nipples. Klaus started crying, ugly crying, overwhelmed by pleasure. It felt like his fucking body was on fire. There was little much else he could do than cling to the dark wood of the table, slippery and shiny from his drool and tears.

Just as he began to tense up, skin shuddering, back bowing unbelievably further, Rolex backhanded him across the face so hard he dropped a knife. It clattered onto the table, and the hands instantly left his cock, much to Klaus’ very whiny disappointment.

He felt rivulets of wine spilling down his shoulders and he felt everything leave him, his body left teetering on the edge , every nerve feeling open like a live wire, unable to stop his hips spasming a little as he searched for friction. His cock drooled onto the table below, hanging hot and heavy between his legs, his hole empty and clenching around nothing.

“Useless,” Blondie spat, and Harry’s disappointed glare reminded Klaus of his father. Except Klaus was dying to suck the guy off, so maybe that comparison wasn’t the best right now.

“Please,” he begged tearfully, dropping the rest of the cutlery and biting his lip, hoping he looked pathetic enough to fuck. He ignored his chest tightening anxiously as he considered the prospect of them leaving him without any money.

“Maybe our guest here just needs a drink?” Cufflinks smirked, and before Klaus could process what he’d said he was dragged over to the edge of the table, his feet reaching the floor, his chest pressed to the wood. He slid easily across the surface, a whole mess of bodily fluids coating the oak.

Finally there was the clicking of a bottle cap and freezing cold lube was dribbled over his abused hole, and FINALLY there was the hot insistent press of a cockhead against him.

Klaus could’ve cried when he was split open, not nearly enough lube to ease the stretch but he was so fucking happy to be of use to them, each brutal thrust made him see stars.

Cufflinks gripped his hair so he had to look up at him, and he poured wine over Klaus’ face. Desperate for any alcohol Klaus opened his mouth, and then another guy filled his glass up, but this time threw it in Klaus’ face. It got in his eyes and it stung, but then Cufflink’s hand was replaced by an even bigger one, and it slammed his head down on the table as the cock was driven into him again and again.

When he felt that one unload into him, he was pushed onto his back, and a guy with diamond earrings lifted Klaus’ shaking legs above his head, and fucked into him like a fucking pitbull.

Klaus’ whole body jolted from the power of the thrusts, his mouth hanging open dumbly as the new position made the guy drive deeper in such a perfect way.

He grasped at Earring’s suit jacket, desperate for something to ground himself on as his fucking soul was railed from his body, but someone out of sight grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.

Earrings then grabbed the belt from earlier, momentarily pausing his assault on Klaus’ asshole, wrapping it around his neck and pulling tight.

When he resumed his brutal pace Klaus couldn’t breathe, letting out helpless little “ah, ah, ah!~” at every inward thrust.

A finger was shoved under his nose with a pile of white powder balanced on it, and it shoved itself in his mouth under his top lip, rubbing the crystals almost painfully into his gums. Klaus sucked the finger needily, ignoring the vile chemical taste, thrilled to finally be given something to take the edge off. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it numbed his mouth and he felt his soul dislodge and bounce around inside his body with each powerful thrust.

At some point he might’ve passed out, but regained consciousness seconds later, this time he was being man handled over a chair, face down ass up. Someone pushed into him, gripping the belt around his neck and hauling him up, and then someone’s cock was in his face.

They slapped him with it a couple of times, teased him with the head, but Klaus was so light headed and fucked out he barely cared. His base instinct of suckling seemed to please the guy, and soon he was being fucked in both ends.

The guy behind him dropped the belt and instead grabbed Klaus’ hair, forcing him down on the guy in front.

Klaus drooled all down his chin, making loud, cut off gargles with each thrust.

Before the guy down his throat came he held Klaus’ nose tight til Klaus’ lungs were bursting and he was struggling his pull away, and when he finally let him go Klaus choked, and he felt some of the guys release clog his nose. 

Klaus was then hauled onto someone’s lap, and felt the weight of another man behind him. Two dicks, one hole; Klaus couldn’t even remember his own fucking name. He could’ve been on fucking Mars for all he cared, he was so full, the stretch burnt but in such a delicious way he couldn’t help trying to push down onto the cocks spearing into him, earning laughs and jeers from the other men.

He came like that, so hard he thinks he might’ve screamed, but it got on the guy’s suit so he shoved him to the floor. They came over his face and his body instead.

“I shouldn’t even bother paying you after you ruined my suit,” the guy with the now pretty cumstained jacket growled, but Rolex stood over Klaus’ twitching body, smirking.

He held the wad of cash out tantalisingly, and it took a few seconds for Klaus to realise that he wanted him to come get it. 

Klaus heaved himself to a kneeling position, his vision about ten times slower than his body and taking a while to catch up, slowly starting to feel the sting of humiliation and self hatred creep up on him. Post orgasm clarity was not kind to him. His gut churned at the feeling of eight men’s seed leaking slowly out of him in globs, drying stickily on his face and in his hair. 

He wanted his dress back. He wasn’t even sure where he’d put it. 

Klaus weakly reached up to grab the money, trying not to grimace too obviously , but Rolex lifted it just out of reach. They laughed. Klaus tried again, but once again Rolex lifted his arm just a centimetre out of Klaus’ range of movement from his kneeling position on the floor.

Klaus felt hot tears of shame prickle at his eyes.

“Come on, be fair,” he begged, his voice hoarse and shaking, standing up on even shakier legs. Where was his fucking dress?

It seemed the other men had gotten bored of Klaus in their own post-nut clarity, and they began to leave, barely sparing Klaus a second glance.

Finally Rolex threw the money onto the floor in a scatter for Klaus to scramble around on his hands and knees to collect, slapping his ass too hard on the way out. It made Klaus yelp. He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he hastily grabbed all the loose notes from the floor, trying to ignore how fucking degraded he felt. The dull throbbing between his legs was gonna be hell tomorrow, but as he hastily counted the notes he realised he had well over two grand in his hand, and he felt the knot in his chest loosen a little, a giddy sense of relief washing over him.

He located his dress thrown into a corner under a chair and struggled into it. The restaurant staff were watching him with badly concealed disdain. Normally Klaus would flip them off and say some bitchy thing that would be Absolutely Hilarious, but right now he felt fragile, and left quickly, ignoring the looks and the comments from the other restaurant goers.

The welts on his back and his ass stung. His skin hurt where he’d been pinched. He knew his face had been stained by the wine and his eyeliner must’ve ran all down his cheeks in thick black lines. 

It hurt to swallow, and it hurt even more to stagger out of the building, clutching his money tightly like a lifeline.

He limped to the nearest bus stop and the other passengers moved away from him, unable to hide their stares.

Klaus tried not to think too deeply about what had just happened. He got his money; that’s all he needed. He wouldn’t have to score for weeks now. He’d be set. He could even get a cheap motel room for a while, maybe buy a couple of meals at shitty diners.

Or, he thought to himself as he almost fell off the bus and tottered up the stairs of the apartment block where Opiate Kev lived, he could buy a shit tonne of heroin and see how long he survived passed out in an alley dressed like a hippie goth crackwhore.

Yeah, Klaus liked that plan a whole fucking lot.

**Author's Note:**

> ‘Opiate Kev’ because I couldn’t think of a better name for a dealer without having to explicitly say “Kev, the dealer”


End file.
